Keeping Hold of What Once Was Lost
by RealVampyre
Summary: (AU) This is a ship story where Booker and Liz are in NO WAY related. Alternate ending for the second & third chapter to explain that Booker and Elizabeth are not blood related. I don't ship the whole incest thing, sorry. Anyways, there will be fluff, lemon and other romantic "themes"along with action packed scenes. Oh, and the Lutece twins shall make appearances!
1. Implementation

A pair of frightened, blue eyes stared back at Booker. He tried to silently reassure her that everything would be alright. If only he could hold her against him and feel the warmth of her petite body while he hushed away her worries. Not only would that be highly inappropriate as of right now, but it would also grab the attention of the bird, who's searching stare they were currently trying to evade.

Elizabeth held her breath; a small droplet of sweat trickled down her forehead. They had come so far that she couldn't bear the idea of Song Bird taking her back now. Meanwhile, an anxious Booker glanced over the counter to check on the current status of the menacing guardian. Booker ducked down just as the bird had turned his way. The movement of the creature's head had caused the window panels to release a painfully loud creek. Left over glass shards fell from what remained of the windows. A small, fragment landed on Booker's back. The tip of the shard tore at a thread of clothing and made a small slice over his right shoulder blade. He simply flinched, but remained silent, mentally counting the seconds that went by. He would be damned if that thing found them. Booker was determined to keep Elizabeth safe from it's grasp. It was a shame that he couldn't just end the beast with a bullet. There was a ceaseless urge to try it, but Booker knew better than that. It would only put both Elizabeth and himself in unnecessary danger. At some point he would find a way to kill it, stop it, whatever, but now wasn't the time.

The bird finally decided that there was nothing worth searching for within the perimeter. Taking a final scan of the room, it let out a high pitched screech and freed it's head from the window pane. The colossal mass pushed off from the side of the building, letting it's wings carry him away. The screeches began to fade off into the distance just as Booker and Elizabeth were recovering from their close call.

A disgruntled Booker pulled him self up from the ground. He swept the shattered glass and dust from his sleeves. Looking up, he noticed that Elizabeth was no longer next to him. The combination for the elevator was gone as well. Booker frantically glanced around, his heart was just about to jump right out of his chest until he caught sight of her rushing over to the elevator. Booker knew he shouldn't get so easily panicked, but the fear of losing her stuck with him. He couldn't help feeling like she would just disappear at any moment.

Elizabeth had a very uneasy look to her. The palm of her hand pressed firmly against the elevator's keypad. A gush of air escaped her lips, her body trembling ever so slightly. Booker moved over to her side, his brows furrowing in concern.

"Elizabeth...you.." Booker started.

"Promise me..." Elizabeth interrupted him. She knew exactly what he was going to say, but it was important that she made herself clear first. Song Bird couldn't be stopped, but they could avoid him. They could keep trying, keep fighting, and hopefully escape. There was no way of ending this for good and he needed to understand that. Protection was the one thing he could offer her.

"I will stop him." Booker insisted. His stomach knotted as he took in the intensity of the situation.

"No." She spoke with barley any breath. Now facing Booker, her blue eyes locked onto his. A solemn look was placed over her features. "That is an oath you cannot keep." Her hand grabbed his and she gradually raised it to her rosy colored cheek. "Promise me, that if it comes to it..." With a sudden jerky movement, Elizabeth seized Booker's hand and placed it around her throat. Those round, blue eyes were focused on him. "You will _not_...let him take me back."

Booker attempted to swallow the lump that accumulated in his gullet. Quickly, he freed his hand from her grasp. "It won't come to that." He promised.

Whatever it took to keep her safe...he would do it. Booker didn't quite understand why he had invested so much energy and emotion into protecting her, but it was no longer related to clearing his debt. Although he wouldn't verbally admit it, he cared for her. Elizabeth had grown on him and continued too as every moment passed by.

"Alright?" Booker inquired, wanting to be sure that she knew he really meant it.

Elizabeth didn't respond. A sigh escaped her as she turned away from him. Now focused on the dial lock, her little fingers tapped away at the buttons until the elevator finally opened up. Elizabeth entered, her arms crossed tightly, against her chest while she leaned on the glass wall, staring out at Columbia.

Booker ran a hand through his hair and drew in a long breath before stepping into the elevator. The doors shut behind him and they started to move downwards. From the corner of his eyes, he peaked over at the brunette beauty. Her blue gems were observing the scene down below them. She was distracted, not paying any attention to Booker. He took this opportunity to look her over and take in her stunning self. Booker had always acknowledge her attractiveness, but it had never stood out to him like it did now. It was her, everything about her that sent a shiver down his spine. He wanted to protect her, listen to her, caress her...

Something was happening and Booker didn't want to admit it. Not only did he hide his new found feelings from Elizabeth, but he denied himself that he had any. How could he let himself get so attached? This was supposed to be nothing more than a deal out of his debt. Booker knew that he could never hand her over to some other greedy organization. God knows what they would do to her. They'd probably poke and prod at her like she was some kind of alien. It wouldn't be any better than this hell-hole. No, he would get her out of here and take her to Paris. Booker would happily be dragged around to the numerous attractions. If it's what she wanted and if it would make her happy, then he would do it in a flash. Elizabeth's well-being meant more to him then anything else anymore.

Suddenly, Booker's entire body tensed up. Sweat leaked down his face, his breathing staggered. The thought had just occurred to him. He was in-love with Elizabeth. This wasn't supposed to happen, but somehow, he was glad it did. Booker never thought that he would be able to love again, not after his wife, but he was wrong. This one girl showed him he could. This one girl had such a strong hold on him, it would be utterly impossible to break at this point in time. Booker's life, which was once in ruins, now revolved around this single girl. "Damn it..." He quietly muttered to himself. Raising his arm, he wiped away the sweat that had formed along his entire face.

"Mr. Dewitt? Is something the matter?" A familiar voice spoke right in front of Booker.

Booker snapped back to reality and only just came to find that Elizabeth was hardly a few inches away, scrutinizing him carefully.

"Uh...No, I'm F-Fine." He stuttered. Their immediate closeness had him gritting his teeth. Booker admired every curve and feature on her person. God damn, she was perfect. A wave of eagerness flooded his body. He wanted to reach out and lock her into an embrace, their lips passionately meeting. That fantasy was soon crushed when Booker realized that she may not share such feelings for him. He was getting way ahead of himself and right now they just needed to focus on finding Comstock then hauling ass out of Columbia. After all of this was over, maybe, just maybe he could figure out if Elizabeth possibly felt the same way...

"You don't seem fine." She persisted. Clearly, by her look, she wasn't convinced.

"Really I am." He shrugged. Booker kept a calm demeanor, trying to avoid any nervous tick that would give him away.

"Booker...You can tell me." Elizabeth sighed. She had a sincere look to her now. The smooth, warm flesh of her palm was now placed on the side of his cheek. Her thumb lightly grazed over the stubble on his jawline. Booker cussed repeatably in his head. She had no idea of the torture she was putting him through at the moment. Booker prepared to respond, but all he could manage was a mute, jaw drop.

Both of them were taken by surprise as the glass wall of the elevator shattered and a luminous white light flooded the box. The floor beneath them shook violently and the elevator shaft crumbled apart. They fell a few feet before the elevator stuck on to a rail, dangling above the battleground that once was Columbia. Their ears were ringing from the aftermath of the blast, their vision completely black for a good minute or so.

Once Booker was finally able to adjust his eyesight, he pulled himself up from the ground. Elizabeth did the same, dusting off her corset and releasing a raspy cough. Booker, carefully, moved over to the gaping hole in the wall and looked down. The Vox and Comstock's men were battling it out below. Booker switched his eyes around the area. Eventually the smoke from the blast had cleared, making his surroundings a little more visible. Booker caught a glimpse of a skyline directly underneath them.

"There's our way out." Booker pulled out his sky hook and glanced over at Elizabeth. "Shall we?" He asked.

Her lips were sealed into a hard line. Elizabeth wasn't exactly pleased with that unexpected interruption. As much as she wanted to know what was on his mind, the mission at hand was more important. With a nod of her head, she gestured towards their only exit. "Gentlemen first, Mr. Dewitt."


	2. Truth

**AN: I want to thank everyone for reading my first chapter. It means a lot that people are even interested in reading my stuff. Anyways, I'm sorry that this took so long to get out, but I had midterms which sadly, is more important than writing fanfiction. I probably won't be actively writing this until I get off of school in three weeks. Once summer is here, I hope to spend a lot more time on this story and maybe pop out a chapter daily, or at the least, every other day. So, basically I skipped to the end. I apologize that there aren't more Columbia scenes. I guess if people really want them I can write in flashbacks, but the first chapter seemed like a fine base to start this off with. Now, this chapter was supposed to be a lot longer, but I currently don't have the time to write more and I wanted to give you guys something instead of leaving you waiting for another week. This is only half of the alternate ending. I will continue writing the rest in the next chapter. I'm sorry if you don't like where this is going. Bioshock Infinite has a really complicated ending. It took me two days just to plot and summarize out an idea for an alternate ending. I wanted to pull away from the whole Booker and Elizabeth being related thing, but without completely butchering the ending. Yes, it's still kind of weird, but at least they won't be related and I still have a few loophole ideas to direct their relationship towards a more romantic perspective. I tried. It wasn't easy rewriting the ending, so please, give me some credit. Thanks and enjoy, hopefully! **

**AsozMania: Thanks, I'm glad you liked it! :)**

**Lone Reaper-068: Thank you so much. I apologize for the long wait. **

**Miss Lynxx: I really hope so. Thanks!**

**Dreamsong83: Why thank you. Let me tell you, doing an alternate ending for this game was the hardest thing I've ever written. Lol. I hope you like it.**

**Guest: I know what I'm doing. It's rated M for later chapters incase of smut. So, unless I change my mind on adding that in, the rating stays as is.**

**Guest: As you wish! :p **

* * *

The wooden door of the lighthouse beckoned for Booker. An eerie feeling crept over his being as he approached it. Deep down, Booker knew that there was something odd about all of this. He couldn't quite place his finger on what it was that bothered him, but he prepared for any surprises that may wait for him beyond the passage. With a final glance, he noted Elizabeth's oddly relaxed and thoughtful posture. There was a look of expectancy in her eyes. She knew what it was that they would be walking into. The fact that she wouldn't say anything about it to Booker, chilled him to the bone. How bad was it? Booker would just have to find out himself.

He was breathing profoundly, his heart thudding violently into his chest cavity, droplets of fluid sat at his hairline. A shaky hand flattened against the wood and forced the entrance open. Warm sunlight streamed through and rested upon Booker's face. Taking a second to let his eyes adjust to the light, his familiar surroundings were revealed to him. He gasped once the scene had set in.

"Wait a minute. I know this place." Booker staggered his words in disbelief. His eyes fixated on the circle of men that gathered around a priest in the center of the creek. The water was surrounded with a very familiar verdant environment. Booker deliberately turned his head to Elizabeth, who now stood a few feet in front of him. "I was here..." He continued. "Twenty years ago, right after wounded knee. I-I was looking for.."

"Come on now, times a-wasting!" The priest exclaimed, his hands gesturing joyously. Booker narrowed his eyes at the priest. He remembered this. It was all coming back to him now. Every moment of it hit him like a train and yet, he couldn't really grasp the reason for why he was there. What was the point of all of this?

"Why were you here?" Elizabeth spoke calmly, her dazzling gaze on the group of men. Booker didn't reply. He was too bewildered by the happening in front of him.

"Are you ready to have your past erased? Are you ready to have your sins cleansed? Are you ready to be born again? Take my hand." The holy men extended his hand to Booker, motioning him forward. Booker obliged and approached the figure, stopping just a foot away from him now. They almost met grasps until Booker retracted and shook his head. What was the point? It wouldn't fix anything. There was no option for redemption, or so he thought. How would some bath in the river help Booker in any way?

"No, no I don't want too." Worry filled his voice as he replied.

"But _he_ already did." Elizabeth whispered.

Booker's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. What in god's name was she talking about? _"He"_? Was she mentioning Booker or referring to someone else?

Dazed and lost in a muddled state, Booker let the forceful waters push him towards the man with the outstretched hand. It almost looked inviting, yet ridiculous.

"Are you ready to be born again?" The priest was gesturing profusely. His energy exceeded that of a normal man. It caught Booker completely off guard.

Hazily, Booker took the man's hand and replied in a soft manner. "I am."

"Do you hate your sins?" The priest continued.

"I do." Booker had just barley managed a whisper.

"Do you hate your wickedness?" A pair of gray eyes burned holes into Booker's.

"Yes." Booker mindlessly replied. Although he was unsure as to why he was playing along, he knew that deep down, he truly hated his sins.

"Do you want to clean the slate? Leave behind all you were before and be born again in the blood of the lamb!" He shouted the last line, the tips of his fingers raised to the almighty above.

"Yes." Booker hissed, irritated. Sense started to return to him. What did he think he was doing? This was ludicrous. A baptism wasn't going to solve his problems. It wasn't going to pay off his debt, or bring his family back, or even provide him with a single ounce of contentment.

"Jesus, wash this man clean. Father.."

"Wait." Booker tried to writhe himself free of the priest's grasp. "Stop." Anger rose in his voice and he shoved the priest away. The man persisted and tried to grab Booker who pushed through the group of men. "Stop it! Get off of me!"

Swinging around, he prepared to defend himself from the group, but instead found Elizabeth to be the one clutching his hand.

"You didn't go through with it." Her head was tilted back to gain a better view of him. There was something terribly uneasy about her stare. Elizabeth's hand clutched his firmly and she guided him over to a grassy island centered in the creek.

"You think a dunk in the river is going to change the things I've done?" Booker snapped. He didn't bother holding his frustration from her. All he wanted was to get out of the there. Why couldn't she just open up a tear to Paris or someplace safe and be done with this whole thing? Booker was ready to complain some more, but Elizabeth interrupted him before he could.

"You may not have accepted the Baptism, but _he_ did." Her hand was stretched in the direction they had wandered from.

Booker moved his attention over to where she was pointing. Confusion washed over his face. A familiar looking man stepped away from the circle, accepting the priest's hand. The man's eyes were filled with sorrow, but a look of enlightenment replaced it. His tousled brown hair was engulfed with the dark liquid as the priest gently submerged him underwater. "I think.. I remember him. I didn't quite catch his name though."

"Johnathan." The name came out in a sigh. There was a sadness to the way she said it. "Johnathan Harold Wells".

"I-I don't understand. What does this have to do with anything?!" Booker growled. The veins in his arms were protruding from the stress. He received an empty stare from Elizabeth, who was pulling him away again. "Let's get out of here." Booker was practically pleading. "These doors of yours, they're all tears, right? Well, open one up." He flung his hand in front of him, his brows furrowing with eagerness. "Open one up to Paris. I want to be done with all of this." It was a simple solution. They could go wherever they would like; this chaotic adventure could end. Maybe, just maybe, they could even start a life together. Booker figured that may be asking too much, but still, there should be no reason for door hopping into his past.

Elizabeth slowly shook her head. "Not until we find Comstock." She tugged on his hand, urging him over to an uncanny shed.

"Comstock is dead!" The boom of his voice displayed his rage. Enough was enough. He didn't want to play games anymore. Using all of his force, he ripped his hand from her small one.

"No." She caught his hand, her eyes capturing his. "He was here." A bleak tone lingered with her words. "This way." She motioned to the shed.

With a defeated sigh, Booker followed her. The affect this woman had on him. Gritting his teeth, he pushed open the door of the shed, wanting nothing more than to get this goose chase over with.

The temperature dropped, the light had dimmed exceedingly and the softest sound of what Booker made out to be a music box was flowing through the room. The familiar sent of musk filled his nostrils. Dust particles danced around in the thin stream of light from the window. He immediately recognized the bland, uninteresting wallpaper that adorned the gloomy room. His body tensed when he noticed the man standing across the room.

"Bring us the girl...and wipe away the debt." He knew both that voice and those words all too well. It haunted him everyday.

He hesitantly turned to face Elizabeth. Sorrow and guilt settled on his face. "This is the man who hired me to find you."

"Really?" She asked unconvinced. Elizabeth was very circumspect about responding to anything he might have to say. She wanted him to put the puzzle peices together. He had to. It was only fair that he find out the truth by his own awakening.

Booker was a little thrown off by her tone. "Yes." He murmured. "The girl for the dept..."

Elizabeth never peeled her eyes from him. Instead, she waited. So did the man across the room. They were both waiting for Booker, expecting something specific from him. He caught on to this. Knowing that they wouldn't tell him if he asked, Booker decided to find out for himself. Honestly, he feared the answer.

With a heavy sigh, Booker dragged his feet over to Elizabeth. She was stationed beside the bedroom door. The music box must have been coming from there. Along with the music, there was the sound of something cooing. 'No..It can't be.' Booker thought to himself. He held his breath and opened the door, his movements were slow and quiet. The cooing came from a crib that sat beneath the single window in the room. Suddenly, Booker could feel a dry bulge in his throat.

"Wait, wait, this is wrong." His words had barley made it out past his lips. "Who is this? There was no...there was no baby..." Booker turned around to confront Elizabeth. Instead, he was met with the man that had hired him. Except, that man was Robert Lutece. How could it be? Was it possible that he was the one that hired him? Something didn't add up. Booker's head was flooded with false memories and new perspectives. What in the hell was going on... "I remember...no...there was no baby and if there was, I sure as hell wouldn't give it over to this guy."

"Booker." She tried to calm him. Pity molded her features. "You don't leave this room, until you do." Now, now he can understand. She could make him see the truth, even if it meant making him relive the past.

"Mr. Dewitt, Time is running short." Robert informed him.

Booker shook his head, fighting back tears that threatened to spill over. What nonsense all of this was.

"Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt." Robert's words sent a sharp stab of pain through Booker's chest.

Inhaling deeply, Booker proceeded to do as he was told. Carefully, his hands scooped up the fragile child. Those big blue eyes stared back at him. The warmth of the child was something he wanted to cherish.

"Go on." Elizabeth urged.

"No." Booker choked. He didn't want too, he couldn't. His eyes peeked up through his lashes to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth in front of him.

"You can wait as long as you want too, eventually you'll give him what he wants." She crossed her arms, waiting for him to finish what had been started.

Booker looked at her in complete disbelief. "How do you know all of this?"

Something lit up in her eyes. She was impressed with herself, with what she knew. "I can see all the doors and what's behind all the doors...and behind one of them, I see him."

"Comstock." Booker muttered under his breath. In another universe, that bastard was still alive. But what connection did it have with Booker? None of this made sense.

Like a lost child captured within a perplexed situation, Booker felt like running. Unfortunately, he had nowhere to go. Elizabeth was his only guide. There was only one option.

Facing Robert, Booker had a devastated look about him. He took one good glance at the rosy cheeked, child before handing her over to the Lutece twin. "What choice do I have?"

Robert took the child in his arms and gave Booker a courtesy nod. "The debt is payed. Mr. Comstock washes you of all your sins." The door slammed in Booker's face.

Frantically, Booker yanked it open. Water splashed the side of his cheek, reminding him that he was no longer in his apartment. Thunder roared over head; a crack of light far off in the distance had caught Booker's attention. He let his eyes and mind adjust. His hand patted the seat of the boat, remembering his arrival in Columbia. The movement of the boat had momentarily calmed him down.

"Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt." Elizabeth glared at him, her arms sealed tightly across her chest.

Booker blinked. She was trying to prove a point. He struggled with making sense of it all.

"There was no baby!" He was still in denial. Arguing seemed like the only defense he had left to protect his sanity. "The deal was, I go to Columbia to get you." Booker flinched, his vision going black for a moment.

Elizabeth tilted her head, concern peeking through her dark expression. "Booker, you're bleeding."

"No." He uttered, his fingers dabbing away at his bloody nose. "I remember...I-I remember..."

"Now we've upset him." Robert spoke as he began to slow his rowing, the boat pulling over to the dock.

"I don't expect this next bit to do much for his mood." Rosalind responded.

"Come on." Elizabeth gestured for the dock's ladder.

Booker climbed up and prepared to offer his hand to help her. Noticing that she was no longer seated in the boat, he flashed his eyes about. She appeared on the dock, already heading for the light house. Booker was still curious as to how she did that.

"What are we doing here?" Booker questioned, tired and unamused. "Comstock's dead, we can just go on with our lives. You don't need to-"

"Dead?" She came to an abrupt stop, facing him with a look of disapproval.

Booker frowned at her disheveled appearance. Such a beautiful girl and yet she looked like she had been through hell, emotionally and physically. His mind wandered only for a second. He pictured that all of this had ended. The city of Paris lived vividly in his mind. The two of them could be there now, happy. But no, instead he was stuck in this never ending nightmare. The coming lecture that Elizabeth was about to give, called him back to reality.

"You mean like Chen Lin, like Lady Comstock? No. He is alive in a million, million worlds. It's not over because the prophet is dead. It will only be over when he never even lived in the first place." Turning on her heel, she started for the lighthouse again.

Booker swallowed hard. Maybe it would be better if he just stayed quiet and played along. Quickly, he caught up to speed, following beside her.

When they reached the door, Booker didn't hesitate to open it. His body froze in shock at the unraveling scene before him. It was Robert and Comstock with the child. They were getting away. No, Booker wouldn't allow it.

"Hey!" He shouted. Sprinting down the alley, he reached out in their direction. "Hey, the deal is off, you hear me?!"

They ignored him. Robert was staring into an open tear, yelling back at his sister.

"It seems rather unstable." Robert shook his head, his sister speaking back. Her words muffled within the tear.

"The deal is off!" Booker screamed at them as he closed in.

Their words were washed out with Booker's cries. "Give her back!" He shouted. "Giver her back!"

Booker grabbed Comstock's arm, tugging it violently. "Give her back you son of a bitch!" His eyes latched on to the girl, desperate to snatch her away.

"It's ready, go!" Rosalind yelled from the other side. Robert hurriedly jumped into the tear. Comstock attempted to leap in, but was yanked back by Booker.

Booker lost his grip for a second which was just enough time for Comstock to get half way into the tear. Booker reached out and clutched the baby, using all of his force to pull her back to safety. "No, no no!" He cried, his hand held a death grip on Comstock's arm. That bastard can't take her. Booker wouldn't let him.

"Shut down the machine!" Comstock demanded. A gasp escaping him as he fought over the child.

"No, Anna!" Booker tried to wrap his hands around her, but to no avail.

"Shut it down! Shut down the machine now! Do it!" Comstock barked at Rosalind who fiddled with the machine's controls.

"Give me back my daughter!" The force of Booker's voice blared down the alley. He gave one final tug of his arms, but it was too late. The little girl stretched her hand out just as she was being pulled into the tear.

"No!" A hurt cry rippled from Booker's throat. Both of his hands in need of saving the little girl. His palms met with the cold hard bricks, where the tear had once been. The little girl's pinky had been sliced off as the tear closed, that being all that was left behind. Booker felt tears pour over his cheeks, his body pressing against the wall. "Anna." He sobbed. Everything around him went white, a high humming sound danced around his ears. His distraught state had him shaking, unaware of what was happening. "Anna, no."

"I'm not your daughter." The voice was right beside him, yet is was faded.

Opening his eyes, Booker found himself being shoved around by hoards of people.

"Exscuse me." A small nun holding a bedpan was beside him. Booker clumsily moved to the side, allowing her to pass by. He looked up, catching sight of a large metal plate above a veiwing window. It read _St. Vincent's Hospital of Manhatten. _

"I-I don't understand. What are we doing here?" He muttered precariously.

"You don't remember?" Elizabeth's warm breath hit his ear lobe, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to shoot straight up. "Let me show you." She took his hand, guiding him over to the viewing window. Booker lumbered along.

Inside, doctors and attendants gathered around the woman who laid on the table. A priest was standing beside this woman, praying for her, his hand hovering above her large, swollen belly. One of the nuns moved, reveiling the face of this female. Booker recolid at the sight. Those emerald eyes looked up in his direction only to shut in pain. An acerbic scream escaped the colorless lips of this lady. Sudden memories pooled within Booker's mind. Then it clicked. "Lydia." He spoke the name almost as if it were forbidden to say.

"Your wife, she was beautful." Elizabeth watched the scene before them. Her hand squeezed Booker's with anticipation, preparing him for the worst. She glanced at him with sympathy, water gathered in her own eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"What? What do you mean you're sorry?" Booker's question was soon answered.

The doctors were yelling, giving orders to the attendants. People rushed around the room, the priest shaking his head in grief.

"No, what's going on? What's happening? Lydia. Lydia!" Booker slammed his fist against the glass, his heart racing.

"You already know what happened." Elizabeth squinted her eyes. Paitently, she waited for him to make sense of it.

One of the nuns had a panicked look on her face, holding Lydia's legs apart. Pulling her blood ridden hands away, the nun looked up, her head shaking at the surgeon.

"We have to cut her open." Someone spoke.

An older, wiser looking nun hurried in with a tray of tools. The surgeon grabbed a lancet, waving his hand behind him. The nun noticed the signal and moved over to the viewing window, pulling the curtains shut.

"No, damn it!" Booker shouted, his fists repeatedly slamming against the glass. "We have to get in there now!"

"Lydia is gone, Booker. She didn't survive the procedure." Elizabeth enunciated every word. She couldn't make it an clearer.

"No, no, no, Lydia." He sobbed, the tears returned, staining his cheeks. Booker burried his face in his hands, leaning againts the glass window. He let himself slide down to the ground, choking out sobs every now and then.

It pained Elizabeth to see him like this. She didn't want to hurt him anymore, but it had to be done. "Booker.."

Booker snapped his head up, at the woman before him. The woman he cared so deeply for in an unholy way. It made sense. She was Anna, Lydia was her mother, and Booker, he was living a lie. His entire life was a complete lie. So many emotions surged through his body to the point of it being overwhelming. "I'm so sorry, Anna. I'm sorry, for everything. I failed you when you needed me most. And your mother-" He floundered with his own words. "I wasn't there for her. She slipped away and I-"

"Booker." She stopped him, her brows scrunched together. He was starting to catch on, but he still had the wrong idea. "Anna didn't make it either."

"W-what?" Booker blinked, bewildered. "But you-"

Elizabeth shook his head. "Both your wife and the baby died."

"That can't be. I remember now, you survived, they handed you to me." He could feel his sanity slipping away. Nothing, aboslutely nothing made sense anymore.

"I survived, Anna did not." Elizabeth slipped a finger under his chin, guiding him up off the ground.

Suddenly, they were in front of a different viewing window. Standing only a few feet away was that same man from the creek, his face flushed and wet from endless crying. Booker raised a brow at the man. "Him again?" He turned to Elizabeth.

"Johnathan." She whispered. "He too had a wife giving birth on the day of yours." Elizabeth faced the window just as a nun pulled the curtains away. Another nun was dragging a white sheet over the body of pale, brown haired woman. "That's my mother." Elizabeth planted her hand against the glass, gazing in. A single tear spilled over her cheek. "She didn't even get to hold me. Her heart failed during delivery."

Booker was frozen, an unmoving statue, slowly absorbing the sudden impact of information. He almost couldn't believe this. If he didn't know any better, he would say that he was dreaming, or in this case having a nightmare.

"These places of faith, aren't always faithful. They can be deceiving. Some people that claim to worship god, aren't who you think they are. Greed and lies have always been a part of human nature. In this case, money was what made out in the end." It was like Elizabeth was speaking to some unseen force. Her mind had been in a far away place, seeing; she could see everything. "Before your debt, you and your wife maintained a fair amount of wealth, more than the gentleman beside you."

Booker opened his mouth. Nothing but air made it's way out. His glances switched from Elizabeth to the unmoving Johnathan fellow. It was all starting to make sense now. A pain grew in his abdomen as he came to his realization. He was lied too, played for a fool. Booker lived off of memories that weren't even real. His real life had been washed away into the depths of his own head.

"Mr. Dewitt." An unusually cheerful voice echoed down the hall.

Booker spun around to investigate the voice. The older nun from Lydia's room flitted down the hall, holding a bundled up baby. A warm smile was placed on the nun's face.

"Congratulations, Mr. Dewitt. It's a baby girl." She closed in on Booker, her arms passing the child over to him.

"Anna." He mumbled, staring down at the tiny newborn who pawed at him.

"No. Not, Anna." Elizabeth reassured him from behind.

The nun cleared her throat and her smile quickly faded. "I'm afraid that I have some terrible news about your wife." She spoke gravely.

There was a bright flash of light and the nun, the hospital, Johnathan; all of it was gone. Elizabeth and Booker were now back in his dirty little apartment. His arms were now empty. "Anna." He whispered once more.

"She's gone, Booker. Anna is gone." She reminded him.

Booker let his eyes drop down to the brand on his hand. _AD_, Anna Dewitt...

"Lydia is gone. You lost them both that day and instead, came home with a lie. The death of your wife placed you in a deep depression, then when you had to give your daughter up, it shattered you. You didn't even know that your daughter was really dead." Elizabeth strolled across the room, carefully observing everything as she spoke.

Booker silently watched her, listening. Elizabeth puckered her lips together. She knew it was a lot for him to take in, but it had to be said.

"Comstock eventually discovered his own truth. After he created Columbia, he got his hands on the files from the hospital. He discovered me." She stopped and leaned in against one of the walls. "Your dept was the perfect excuse. A man came to your door and offered to wipe away your debt for another price. For almost 20 years, you lived in regret." Her voice cracked, but she continued anyway. "Until one day, that same man came to you, offered you a chance at redemption, a chance to fix it all."


	3. Severance

**AN: Oh my god, I know this took super long to get out. I am so sorry, but I really had to prepare for finals and just didn't have the extra time to write. Now that finals are over I was able to finally type this up. It's a tad bit rushed, so I apologize for any misspellings or other errors. I really wanted to get this out as soon as possible without wasting another minute. I'll take my time on the next chapters, but hopefully, I'll be able to update more frequently now that school is over. Anywho, I hope you enjoy. This is the second part to the alternate ending. No, this is not how it ends. Booker and Elizabeth will be united again soon. I was just trying to add in some dramatic storytelling. Oh, and I hope you guys like the little bit of the Lutece twins that I added in there. Sorry, I'm pretty dense and not the best when it comes to scientific topics other than Anthropology. So, if Robert's little comment doesn't make sense then my apologies! It should though, I researched it before I typed it, but hey, not everything on the internet is correct! ;) haha. Enjoy!**

**child who is cool: Thanks, I tried. :)**

**Lone Reaper-068: Aw, yeah. He sure did get the bad end of the stick. ;( Oh well, things will start looking up for him!**

**Alyx: More to come!**

**Dreamsong83: Bingo! Smart cookie. :) Haha, thank you so much! That means a lot, but I honestly don't think I could ever live up too, or come close to Ken Levine's style of storytelling. He's just so fricken amazing. It's an honor though, that you would thinks so. Thanks again. ;D**

**Armaras: Thank you so much. And here I was thinking that people would hate it. Boy, did you guys prove me wrong. :)**

**issac0suarez: Thank you so much. It means a lot. Wow, I would really hope so too!**

**iCraft: Thank you. I hope you like the rest. **

**DrayoHyrus: More coming your way. **

* * *

The worst had yet to come for dear Mr. Dewitt. He wasn't emotionally prepared for the upcoming experience, but he knew that there was no turning back. Elizabeth intended on dragging him through to the end. What deeply worried him was the final result. Whatever was in store for Booker could be greatly troubling.

Tension built up in his muscles as Booker stumbled into the tear. His sight was uncomfortably locked on Robert's hideously colored raincoat. That raincoat soon began to morph into multiple bright colors, eventually washing out Booker's entire sight. Everything then faded to white. A static rim buzzed at the edges of his vision. Gravity pulled Booker's body to the ground, holding him there as if someone dropped weights on top of his chest.

"I told you it would work." Robert's familiar voice announced.

"We already know it works." A hint of annoyance could be heard in Rosalind's words. "The question is..."

Her voice withered away amongst the high pitch screeching and static filling Booker's head.

"Anna." Booker moaned, his mind in a fumbling daze. "Anna." He managed to mutter the name again.

"I suppose he branded himself as some sort of penance." Rosalind lifted Booker's hand, observing it like it was some kind of fresh discovery. "What's done is done, what's done will be done."

The rest of the conversation was mixed with Booker's own mindless mumbling and that high pitched noise. Flashes of the environment would appear here and there and at other times Booker would see nothing but an empty white sheet. His back ached from the sensation of being dragged against wood. Every now and then he would catch what the twins were saying while they pulled his body along.

"Wipe away the debt...bring us the girl..." He groaned. His words staggered and unclear. "Wipe away the debt..."

"See!" Robert piped in. "He's starting to put his story together." He sounded fairly impressed.

"You're quite fond of this theory of yours." Rosalind playfully rolled her eyes up, preparing for Robert to his express his satisfaction on the matter.

"He's manufacturing new memories from his old ones." He elucidated.

"Well, the brain adapts." Rosalind shrugged, her eyes set on Booker when she spoke.

"I should know. I lived it."

Robert's final words were ceased when the white sheet had completely consumed Booker's entire being. He was able to move again, but that feeling of being trapped stayed with him; surrounded by white emptiness, nothing more, nothing less. Booker was in utter disorder, even more so when he was confronted by what appeared to be a young woman. She could have possibly been Elizabeth's age, maybe even younger. The paleness of her skin matched that of her white dress. Familiar blonde hair draped down past the girl's shoulders. Her hair was golden, much lighter then Lydia's. Lydia...that's who this young girl reminded Booker of. She resembled his wife in so many ways and yet, she contained many of Booker's own features. There was one thing that was most certainly Lydia's and those were the girl's eyes. They were emerald eyes that could bedazzle anyone with the tiniest glimpse.

There was pure silence for a good half-minute before the girl spoke. Her voice had the loveliest touch to it. It was soft like velvet, yet high like the chime of a small bell.

"Father..." Just that word alone, from the mouth of an angel, brought tears to Booker's eyes.

"Money was your defeat, your downfall."

"Love was your weakness." Elizabeth added. She now stood beside the girl.

"You let it destroy you." Lydia said this with a look of sadness in her eyes. She slowly came up behind Anna, placing her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Your greed harmed those in your path." Johnathan hissed, his hand now placed on Elizabeth's shoulder.

"Until you were offered redemption." The Lutece twins spoke in sync, the two of them appearing between Johnathan and Lydia.

"Wash away your sins and help my daughter. Help her destroy Comstock; the monster that you created." A pale, brown haired woman reached out to Booker. Her blue eyes burned holes into Booker's own eye sockets.

Pain, despair, regret, loss, heartbreak, grief, every ounce of emotion ripped violently at his soul. His inner self screamed for escape. The oxygen left his body, causing him to gasp for air, to desperately cling onto life. That high pitch noise came back and flooded Booker's ears. His eardrums rang in pain. The sound finally toned down and instead a softer voice woke Booker from his stupor.

"Booker wake up." Booker slowly came too. Pain in his forehead had restricted his sight for a second too long.

"Booker wake up." Elizabeth repeated, her head bowed in concern.

The ocean breeze was enough to bring him back to a regular attentive state. He trembled, horrified from that vision. He was emanating sudden concern, not for himself, but for Elizabeth. It was now clear what had to be done. Comstock would never harm Elizabeth again, not in her world, nor in any other universe. Silently, he made a promise to Elizabeth's deceased mother, a promise to protect her daughter from harm, especially Comstock. It was time that Booker fixed his own mistake.

"This is where it started." Elizabeth's gaze wandered about the blackened waters.

"I Sold you...I sold you. I took away your chance for a normal life. I created _him_." It was spoken in disbelief. Even now, it still seemed impossible to Booker, but truthfully, he knew what he had done.

"To your credit, you did try to weasel out of the deal. Then again, she wasn't really your daughter; you weren't supposed to have her in the first place." Rosalind interrupted.

"This isn't only Comstock's fault, but it's mine too." He restated. There was a dead, miserable tone to his speech. "What if I went back, killed him before he did any of this?"

"Things get set in motion." Rosalind reminded him.

"How would one know how far back to go?" Robert leaned over to address Booker. His hands continued to push the paddles against the rough waters.

"That's the only way to do it. Go back to when he was born and I'll smother the son of a bitch in his crib." Booker concluded.

Elizabeth stayed quiet, her arms were glued to her chest. Booker had it in his mind that he could put an end to all of this. It was Elizabeth who was destined to set things right, not Booker. Elizabeth cringed, the outcome was looking grimmer by the moment, especially for Booker. He still had an important part in all of this. A part that Elizabeth didn't want him to claim. Her feelings for him were restraining her from letting him go. Unfortunately, losing Booker might just be inevitable.

There was another round of deja-vu as the boat pulled into the dock. Booker relived the climb of the ladder and this time he didn't fool himself into thinking Elizabeth was still behind. There she was, on the deck and already headed for same damn lighthouse. This replica lighthouse had such a different feeling to it. It certainly wasn't a good feeling either.

Booker placed his palm on the wet wood. The veins in his arm pulsated before he even prepared to shove the door open. A smaller, gentler hand rested beside his.

"Booker." She stopped him.

He turned to her, his energy faltered. The pair of distressed eyes watched him with anxiety.

"Are you sure...this is what you want?" Elizabeth didn't even know if she wanted this. She was scared. This could be it, the end for both of them. There was no way of telling what may happen after this final journey. She wasn't even sure if she could go through with it anymore.

"I have too, it's the only way to undo what I've done to you." His words came out in a long sigh.

Tenderly, Booker grabbed Elizabeth's hand and moved it away from the door. It dropped down to her side, hanging there like a rag doll's limb. The door opened and Booker only needed to take a single step in before his legs were deluged with water. He was met with the back side of a gentlemen. This man faced the priest, the two of them prayed silently in the center of the river. The priest raised his head and threw his arms up in the air.

"Johnathan Wells! Are you ready to be born again?!" He shouted.

"What is this?" Booker asked in confusion and faced Elizabeth. "Why are we back here?"

"The baptism, Booker." Elizabeth frowned.

"I-I don't understand.."

"Johnathan excepted the baptism. He was reborn into another man."

"Comstock." Booker hissed the name.

"I thought it would be enough to...to stop him before he could be baptized."

"We'll drown the bastard, right here, right now. It has to end then, right?" Booker angrily gestured to the man behind him.

"No, it's not enough. Comstock will cease to exist, but Johnathan will never live a happy life with his daughter. It has to go back even farther,... back to the beginning." Hurt built in her expression as she uttered the last part.

"Back to the beginning?" Booker blinked.

Elizabeth closed her eyes shut. There was a look of pain amongst her. Opening her eyes, she turned her head to the right. A large tear opened in the direction she had looked. Booker flinched away by the sudden static-like electricity that danced at the edges of the tear. Inside, he could see the hospital. He could see himself. A clone, a duplicate, a Booker from another universe stood within that tear, gazing through a viewing window.

"This is wrong. I'm supposed to take you back and stop you, but I can't lose _you_. I'm weaker than I thought." She choked, tears filled her eyes.

"Elizabeth! What the hell is going on? What are you talking about?" Panic was loud and clear in his voice. Sweat had drenched him from head to toe as the adrenaline and fear pumped through him. He readied himself for disaster.

"I'm going to try. I have to try this. Maybe, maybe I can still save _you_. I can save a _specific_ Booker Dewitt. I can still fix everything. I'll just end it with another Booker from another universe. That way you might be safe."

"That or you'll cause a paradox." Robert Lutece chimed in. His head peeking in from another tear behind Booker.

Booker jumped back, startled by the unexpected intrusion.

"Risks are meant to be taken, brother." Rosalind added.

"Even if those risks involve destroying the very existence of the universe?"

"I suppose that could be a problem, but she'll do what she wants. This could end up being a very fascinating hypothesis to test."

"No, a fascinating hypothesis would the attempt to explain the existence of the various chemical elements through a hypothesis regarding the internal structure of the atom. _That's _fascinating. The end of existence itself? Not so much. "

"If you're going to be a poor sport then I shan't take you along again."

"Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?" He yelled out, interrupting the sibling's banter.

"Go with them, Booker. In that world you should be safe. I can prevent you from taking me in another universe. Johnathan never becomes Comstock and he goes home with his daughter." Elizabeth sounded dead. It was as if this whole adventure had finally took it's toll on her. There wasn't a single trace of life or excitement in her voice.

"Come with me." Booker whimpered.

"I can't. After this, I won't '_exist_'. Elizabeth won't exist. Not in this form. Goodbye, Booker." The tear with the hospital grew wider and practically swallowed her up. She turned back one last time to lock eyes with him, tears glistening in her own.

"Elizabeth!" He shouted, desperately trying to reach out for her.

A force from two pairs of hands clutched his shoulders and yanked him back into the tear behind him.

"Time to go, Mr. Dewitt." Rosalind urged, pulling him away.

The tear closed and Booker found himself flinging his body at the stain covered wall. His fists slammed against the hard surface as a sound of defeat pushed past his lips. She was gone.

Booker chocked on sob after sob, letting himself stumble back from the wall. The sight and smell of his dirty apartment was all too familiar. He was alone. The twins, Elizabeth, everyone and everything had vanished. Booker dropped to his knees. His eyes never left that empty wall.


End file.
